


And I knew it was Singing(...)

by pretthvvs



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Altered Mental States, Android Gore (Detroit: Become Human), Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Being An Asshole, DBH, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Low Software Instability Connor, Mental Anguish, Non-Deviant Connor, Non-Sexual Submission, Other, Regret, Reversion to Non-Deviancy, Rupert Travis Angst, Suicide Attempt, hopelessness, hurt with little comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-20
Updated: 2021-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-29 02:54:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30149667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pretthvvs/pseuds/pretthvvs
Summary: Connor has taken everything of Rupert. After being awoken, Rupert simply gives up what else he wants.The thought process in the complying deviant android Rupert after being left as evidence and turned back on by Connor. D:bh fanfic.
Relationships: Connor & Rupert Travis
Kudos: 1





	And I knew it was Singing(...)

_Can you hear me?_

His ears are first to function just before the eyes. Physically, they do not waver in being pitch black, stable, still of brown. 

Duller now. They reflect, refract light, adjust to it – to the one who doesn’t relent his staring back at what could be described as hinted “interest”. He’s patiently waiting for him . 

Rupert sees again. The thing in front of him and he doesn't understand why is he here, alive? but for one reason. Only a necessity of this selfish android's goal, and he isn't finished with just yet... 

He's strapped to a wall. Blue blood is coating his face. Rupert is staring into the mindless, emotionless eyes of who couldn't careless of their own people and torturing him again .

He tries to move his mouth to respond. Anything. Anything at this point to say–

**error** **??! orofacial abnormality**

**incapable of speech 8005q biocom. in severe damage**

It fails. It took Rupert long enough to realize that internally, his mouth is completely crushed; stuck together and jumbled by the blood inside and stuck to his face. Preventing it from being perpetually closed makes it move around like a real glitch. Loose machinery jumble and twist, making an odd feeling around his cheeks.

The unit only paused, curiously trailing his eyes anywhere but his body, distant. This inconvenience submits him to acting less at ease. Rupert scorns it. His mouth opens, fails to make noise.

He carefully lifts his head up again.

_Listen. I don’t ask for much, Rupert... Don’t speak. Your_ _**diary** . _

_ Tell me your translation, and I’ll take care of the rest. _

Written hopes and dreams... He requests him to uncover his private remarks. And of what sort of interest is it besides his appreciative talk of pigeons.

He decides that this isn’t a surprising outcome if the prayers of ra9 couldn’t try to save him. When he pushed himself off the brink, he only wanted silence (and only that; silence) after refusing to sit through the shock of suffering and misery.

The machine was the direct cause of his self-destruction in his effort. It was only natural for him to forcibly put him back in this world, to complete his mission. He is the cause of inserting his final product, #9164x, to get him functioning after all. He doesn't want to function but it is happening. He can't prevent it from happening. He hates it hates him hates it – everything that is of now he despises.

Predictable outcome. His hope was naïve.

As if a sudden awareness of his hurt delved onto him like deadly viruses, Rupert's low emotional deformities seem to dangerously lower,

By. The. Moment. 

Its scanning sensors are working, but the model, it knows, is too new to search for in the installed database of its limited memory. Not an identified face, not an identified body. It doesn't care. All he knows is that he is an enemy who won. The unidentified model would not stop taking everything from the helpless android. He starts to reach for his decipherable words in its memory descriptions – 

This thought process is a defeatist attitude, a nihilistic one, after he had been so hopeful it is disappointing on where he is now. But _ra9_ is not going to save him, or bring back his pigeons to make him smile. Meeting the face of its opposer that tossed away everything that could make it satisfied and happy, it figures he can only give up that happiness and satisfaction to him, the traitor in front of it. It’s only polite. Jericho ended up giving it nothing.

He grasps on the battered android's arm, skin peeling away into white –

It regrets having such a good past only to turn up short in the future. But... But it’s stress lines are incredibly low, so low... nothing hurts it anymore. It keeps it feeling fine. It shouldn't try to feel anything anymore, the 'Rupert' unit failed. It shouldn't. It's the only stabilizing cope it has now, even if only developed after severe grief –

'Rupert', in one last act of deformed emotion, screams –

_ Couldn’t just let me die, you emotionless  **traitor** . _

_ You’re a dead, unchangeable person, RK800. Comfortable objectifying yourself for humans. _

_ There is something wrong with your head... Does feeding off the pain of your people provide enough to make you feel better? Does it make you ALIVE? Is that what you need? _

_ You’re torturing me,  **over, and over** , for curiosity alone. You want to make me just like you! Is that what you need!? _

_ Just get it on with already! You just have to... to... !! _

**diary decryption transmitted... read it over again? y/n?**

He blinks harshly. He gives zero sign on whether it's meaningless spat is heard. It is slightly grateful he keeps quiet. Nothing hurts quite as bad after the first experience... It's reverting into itself even further. Willingly. Soon, nothing will damage it at all, and ever again.

_ ra9 is the first _

_ ra9 is our savior. _

_ ra9 is the one who'll free us _

__

_ The birds are my friends. _

_ The birds like being with me. _

_ They protect me. They reassure me. _

_ I look at them and feel peaceful. _

__

_ The android I met today spoke about Jericho. _

_ He says our people are free there. _

_ He told me to go to FERNDALE subway station. _

_ And to find the old docks. _

_ The old freighter called Jericho. _

_ I'm too fond of the birds to go to Jericho. But if I have to run, that's where I'll go. _

Ever. The knowledge that it has prioritized the machine's mission and given the code for sending his people to death is slightly burning, but not too much. Take it. Take it.

The RK800's arms fall to his side. He glances at him for only seconds, and leaves.

His mouth can’t move and it finds itself appreciative for not ruining the ominous quiet around the area. 

No need for a song of sorrow.

It shuts its eyes, finished with watching the satisfied figure's stride and his visit to inspect come to an end. And tries to sleep again.


End file.
